


I Love Play Rehearsal

by Bandtrees, TheArtisticIntrovert



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: (sorry guys we love michael we swear), Angst, Dark, Michael Mutilation/Death AU, au where jeremy is totally on board with everything the squip is up to, there's ocs in here, this is fucked up on many levels and probably a few as of yet undiscovered levels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-05 20:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11020857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandtrees/pseuds/Bandtrees, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtisticIntrovert/pseuds/TheArtisticIntrovert
Summary: In which Jeremy needs to find his chill





	1. well this can only end badly

**Author's Note:**

> all techie talk is Accurate trust me i'm a techie ~tyler
> 
> buckle up fuckers ~ollie

Jenny Luce wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the cats, only that she’d come up around lunch, but she didn’t particularly care about the periods that came after. She was in the back corner, making sure all the hanging portions of the set were secured tightly to the railing, when she heard the door open.

 

Footsteps sounded on the metal, and she could hear quiet whispering echoing down the narrow hallway. She frowned, standing up carefully. Nobody was supposed to up here. Nobody other than her was supposed to have the  _ keys,  _ let alone be coming up right before the show. She shook her head, brushing her hair back and heading for the door. Standing over the spotlight was Jeremy Heere, the school’s new resident “cool kid”. He was fiddling with something, muttering to himself as he messed with the bolts connecting the spotlight to the railing. Her eyes widened, and before she could stop herself, she stepped forward.

 

“HEY!” she yelled, glaring at him. Jeremy jumped, dropping the wrench into the cage under the smaller lights. “You’re not supposed to be up here, who let you in?!” she snapped. Jeremy blinked, eyes glazing over for a second before he smiled easily, the very picture of confidence.

 

“Mr. Reyes let me in. He said he wanted me to check the lights, make sure they wouldn’t fall. He said he would’ve sent a techie up, but we’re kinda short on those, and he couldn’t find you. So, he sent me!” he said. She narrowed her eyes at him, pursing her lips.

 

“....Right. Okay then. So you were just tightening the bolts on the spotlight, right?” she asked. He nodded, still giving her that same sunny smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but with the stress of basically being both cast  _ and  _ crew, plus school shit and friends, she guessed he had an excuse for looking dead inside. She huffed out a short laugh, shaking her head. “Well, alright then. Don’t let me stop you. I should probably get going anyway, I think my friends are about to put out a missing persons report on me,” she joked. He laughed, eyes crinkling shut as he stepped aside to let her through with a (careful) exaggerated bow. She nodded in thanks, edging past him and heading down the steps, waiting until she was out in the little hall between the cats and the upstairs hallway to let her smile drop. “Jeremy Heere, you’re full of bullshit...” she muttered.

 

She went downstairs, heading not for Mr. Reyes (who was actually out  _ sick  _ today) or her friends, but for Officer Roberts, one of the security officers. He was lounging behind the security desk when she came down, eyes half-lidded as he watched the security feed. She tapped on the desk to get his attention, startling him into sitting bolt upright with wide eyes. “Woah, Jenny! Sorry, you spooked me. What’s up?” he asked. She laughed slightly, a small grin spreading across her face, despite her best efforts.

 

“Hi, Officer Roberts. Um, I just wanted to tell you that there’s a kid up on the catwalks that’s not supposed to be there. He’s messing with one of the lights, and he said Mr. Reyes sent him when I asked him about it,” she explained. Officer Roberts frowned, confused.

 

“Then what’s the problem?” he asked. Jenny sighed, crossing her arms.

 

“Mr. Reyes is out sick today.”

 

\--

 

_ “Jeremy. You need to hurry. I don’t think that girl believed you.”  _ Jeremy jumped slightly, hissing out a quiet curse when he smacked the top of his head on the low railing. He carefully crawled backwards, the wrench gripped tightly in his sweaty hand.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Loosen the bolts, stop the person before they hurt me, get out of here without anyone realizing what I did. Got it, so calm down, would ya?” he said, waving away the SQUIP’s concerns, getting a small shock for his cheek. He winced slightly, shaking out his tingling fingers before getting back to work on the bolts. It took another ten minutes or so, but he finally got the rusty bolts to turn, loosening them enough that they were just on the edge of snapping.

 

He frowned slightly at the persistent feeling that he was forgetting something important, but shrugged it off. It didn’t matter. If it was truly important, the SQUIP would’ve told him.

 

He was just standing up and stretching out his cramped muscles when the door at the end of the hall slammed open. He jumped, the wrench slipping out of his hand again as he whirled around to face the door. Standing there was the girl from earlier, along with one of the security officers and the sub for drama. She wasn’t smiling anymore, instead glaring at him with tensed shoulders.

 

The security officer approached him carefully, like he was walking up to a wild animal. Jeremy started chewing on his lip, feeling his shoulders start to curl in before a sharp jolt to his spine corrected that in an instant. Instead, he wiped his palms on his jeans before shooting the officer the same bright smile he’d given the girl earlier. “What’s up, Officer.....”

 

_ “Roberts.” _

 

“Roberts?” Jeremy asked, acting like he hadn’t stopped talking at all. Officer Roberts smiled weakly at him, still approaching carefully. Jeremy’s smile dimmed slightly in confusion.  _ “Why is he acting like I’m dangerous?”  _ he wondered.

 

_ “Because Jenny, the girl, has been telling him stories,”  _ the SQUIP replied.  _ “She isn’t the person we were preparing for, but I hadn’t known this future would be the one to come to pass....”  _ It trailed off, sounding unsure.

 

“Heya, Jeremy. Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble, I’d just like to ask you a few questions, alright?” Roberts said, pausing in his approach. Jeremy’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he let his bright “I love you and everyone around you” smile fade into one made more of polite confusion.

 

“Well, alright then. Ask away!” he said. Roberts scratched the back of his head, straightening up slightly.

 

“Why are you up here, Jeremy?” he asked. Jeremy’s eyes widened slightly, and he cursed himself for actually mentioning a name, especially with the drama sub  _ right there. _

 

“Ah....I...Um...” Another shock to his spine, coupled with the feeling of being..... _ shoved _ out of his mind. “I was just checking the bolts on the spotlight, making sure everything is secure. I know that the theatre is.....less than stellar, especially after so many budget cuts. And that’s why I didn’t look for someone on the actual tech crew, I wasn’t aware we actually had one,” his voice said, his mouth curving into an apologetic smile. He was pushed back into his mind again, blinking from the sudden shift in clarity.

 

“Alright. Who let you in, Jeremy?” Roberts asked. The sub was looking uncomfortable, and Jenny was looking like the cat who caught the canary.

 

“M-Mr. Reyes’ keys?” Jeremy said, though it didn’t come out quite as confident as he wanted it to. Jenny snorted, and he barely stopped himself from glaring at her. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

 

“You’re lying,” she said simply. “I know you’re lying, because  _ I  _ have Mr. Reyes’ keys.”

 

Jeremy wasn’t quite sure what happened after that, only that suddenly, a white-hot rage was pulsing through him, blurring out his vision. He doubled over, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching his head. The forms in front of him flickered, and he was once again confronted with that unpleasant “I forgot something really important” feeling.

 

_ “Just calm down, Jeremy. It’s alright. Just like in everything else, if you just listen and obey, everything will end up fine,”  _ the SQUIP promised. Jeremy nodded, the rage abating just a bit. He blinked sluggishly, still grinning dopily.

 

“Jeremy?” Roberts asked, once again sounding cautious. He shifted, and Jeremy’s eyes snapped to the movement, face flushing involuntarily with all the emotions currently fighting for dominance in his brain. “Are you.....Are you okay?” he asked.

 

“Never been better!” he said cheerfully, straightening up. Roberts looked doubtful, but nodded slowly, reaching for something on his belt.

 

“Right.....Well....Jeremy, I just have one more question for you, alright?” he said. Jeremy nodded, eyes shining. “Has anyone offered you anything....suspicious? Or given you food or a drink that made you feel....strange?” he asked. Jeremy froze. Did they know about the SQUIP?

 

“I haven’t taken any drugs, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said instead, a lot more cautious now. He felt a bit like a cornered animal, and started slowly backing away. Jenny had vanished. The sub was standing back. Roberts was clutching something behind him. Involuntarily, he started sweating again. He wiped his palms on the legs of his jeans once more, wishing he could fidget with something.

 

He could hear the sounds of the cast below him, getting ready for the play. His eyes strayed to the stage below him, before snapping back to Roberts as the other moved again. He stepped back, hands shaking. “Jeremy, I need you to calm down. If you just come with me, I can help you, and we can get this sorted, alright?” he said.

 

Jeremy laughed, sharp and loud. Not his real laugh. Not the laugh he developed after being esquipped. The laugh he had when he was on the verge of a panic attack. He glanced at the stage again, squeezing his hands into fists to try and stop the trembling. “I don’t need  _ your  _ help! I’m fine! I’ve got everything I need, and everything is  _ fine,  _ okay?” he snapped, voice raising an entire octave.

 

_ “Breathe, Jeremy. You are on the verge of a breakdown. I need you to calm down, so we can deescalate this situation.”  _ He nodded in response to the SQUIP, breathing deeply and trying to calm himself down.

 

He almost made it, when......

 

_ “MICHAEL MAKES AN ENTRANCE!” _

 

Oh. So  _ that’s  _ what he’d forgotten.


	2. michael makes an exit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the scene that started it all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter written by ollie (TheFreshPrinceOfNightmares)

It didn't take a master detective to see that something was very off about this production. There's a certain quality you'd expect from a school play, and anything exceeding that expectation was either a pleasant surprise or suspicious.

 

Jeremy might not have been able to see Michael, but Michael had certainly seen how off the boy was acting ever since he'd taken that.... thing. He wasn't stupid, he didn't think anything but the Squip could've been behind his friend's odd behavior.

 

And just by attending rehearsals out of curiosity, Michael knew Jeremy wasn't the only cast member being influenced by that stupid computer. It was too perfect to be a school play; even if the cast spent every waking moment rehearsing, there was no way it could be that flawless. Even Chloe Valentine was reciting her lines the way they were written, and without a script at that!

 

So that's why he was out here tonight. Part of him felt a little guilty about ruining everyone's big night, but then the bigger part of him shut that down. Whatever fucked up agenda the Squips were planning to spread, Michael didn't want it to reach any further.

 

Nobody was up on the stage itself yet. The play wouldn't start for a while- Michael assumed they were off getting things ready backstage. There was the sound of kids chattering and the orchestra rehearsing off somewhere else in the building, confirming his theory.

 

The stage was barren save for a couple basic props- he figured that even if the actors were scarily perfect, there wasn't a reason for the rest of the production to be that way. There was a poster-sized paper taped to the floor, and Michael only noticed it when he stepped on it.

 

He could've sworn it wasn't there before, but then, he figured, he wouldn't have been able to see it from his spot in the audience.

 

It was the basic guideline for the play- tips such as 'if you don't remember your lines, be sure to improvise' sprawled out in blue pen at the very top. Michael snorted to himself- nobody would be forgetting their lines tonight. There was directions for each scene- who should be on stage and when, et cetera. It was kind of sad, all this person's writing had gone to waste because of the whole 'possessed supercomputer cast members' thing. 

 

It was only taped up at the top, Michael realized when he pushed it up with his shoe. There was a big X in white tape under the paper. He supposed that was the guideline for where the paper would go.

 

He read about a quarter of the directions before losing interest, about to continue walking when there was a creak from somewhere overhead. He took a cautious step forward, glancing up.

 

Michael couldn't see anything aside from the spotlights and props, being behind a curtain. Still though, he couldn't help but feel uneasy as his chest tightened and it became hard to breathe. There was a nervous feeling spreading throughout his body, and despite how much he wanted to turn tail and run back to class, he stayed rooted in his spot on the stage, directly on the paper.

 

Michael Mell was no coward. He'd get to the bottom of this no matter what it took. He attempted to clear his throat and ease his breathing, but halted when there was another creak.

 

Another. And another.

 

Was someone walking on the catwalks or something? He looked behind himself again, about to call out to whoever was up there. 

 

Creak.  _ Snap. _

 

That didn't sound good.

 

WHAM!

 

As if they were sickly aware of what was happening, the orchestra off in the building somewhere drew to a crescendo as a lone spotlight crashed down onto Michael. Glass flew in every direction, flying into the air and scattering across the wooden stage floor. The glass fragments hit the ground with clinking noises, and the orchestra slowed back to its original janky tune.

 

Michael was in a daze, to say the least. He couldn't feel anything below his shoulder blades, but what he could feel could only be described as  _ painful. _ Black spots danced over his vision, and only after they cleared could he see ahead of him.

 

Shards of glass were everywhere, pools of blood flowing between them. There were lacerations on his arms, one broken piece of glass even lodged into the space between the thumb and wrist of his right one. His hand was shaking as his vision blurred again, and usually the sight alone of the glass in his wrist would make him faint, but compared to everything else it seemed like a minor inconvenience.

 

The smell of burning flesh was thick in the air, and Michael instantly recognized it as his own. The heat was unbearable- Michael knew spotlights were hot, but nothing could have prepared him for being crushed alive by one. 

 

He was barely able to lift his head and turn to look at the damage. Cuts scored his body, and his jacket was scorched black where the spotlight hit. Blisters and singed flesh showed where his hoodie and shirt had burned away entirely.

 

With a sizzling hiss, a part of his jacket suddenly burst into flames, a small fire now burning on his back. Smoke began to rise, a Michael's chest tightened again as blackness spotted his sight. The acrid smell filled his nostrils, making him wheeze for air. A cough shook his body and he let out a pitiful whimper as the movement only made the shattered glass from the spotlight dig into his back further.

 

He took in a large gulp of air when he could, weakly flailing his arm in an attempt to fan the growing fire away. He was hit by another series of painful coughs, each breath now feeling like the fire itself was crawling down his throat.

 

Was this it? Was this how fate repaid him for trying to help his friends? He should've known. Nothing had worked out for him so far, and frankly he was  _ stupid _ for ever thinking this time would be any different. 

 

"It hhh.. it hhurts, it- it hurts..." Michael wheezed out, taking a trembling breath in as he attempted to move, to get to his knees, to  _ anything. _ The fire had spread to Michael's front, orange tendrils mockingly poking into the corner of his vision as he felt the air grow uncomfortably hot. More uncomfortably hot than it already was, rather.

 

He didn't even realize he was crying until he heard the sob escape his throat. He was going to die here.

 

Michael began to cough and hack again, waving the fire on his shoulder away to the best of his efforts. He attempted to crawl forward again, but no progress was made aside from adding to the already dastardly amount of cuts on his back.

 

The fire on his shoulder went away for a split second and Michael took in another heavy breath of hot air, letting out a yell to the best of his efforts.

 

_ "Help!" _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is why most of those warnings exist


	3. in which jeremy realizes he fucked up

Jeremy heard the crash before he saw the fire. He hiccuped in surprise, looking over the railing to see the spotlight shattered on the ground. He could see something under it, right where he was pretty sure he’d left that poster over the X the SQUIP had him make on the floor with the spike tape. Did that mean the mystery person had been taken care of already?

 

He stared, in shock, at the fire spreading across the stage. The lump under the spotlight was starting to move, slightly, as the fire was abating a bit. He frowned slightly, turning to head back down, but then he remembered that Officer Roberts was blocking the exit. Roberts looked both ashen and  _ fucking pissed,  _ which made for quite the hilarious facial expression, actually.

 

“Jeremy, remember how I said you weren’t in any trouble?” Roberts asked. Jeremy nodded slowly, hands shaking so badly he felt like they were vibrating. The SQUIP was cursing up a storm behind him, his voice glitching out and warping into static as he got progressively angrier. Roberts narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth. “Yeah, see....I gotta retract that. You’ve destroyed school property, started a fire on stage, endangered the lives of the cast and the rest of the students, and I think there’s someone  _ under  _ that spotlight. I’m afraid you’re in a  _ lot  _ of trouble, Jeremy,” he said.

 

_ “Jeremy. This is not the most ideal of situations. There is unfortunately no way out of this without making things worse for yourself. If you go with Officer Roberts, there is a 60% chance that you can get out of this with minimal consequences. Comply.”  _ Jeremy shook his head, stepping back again, almost tripping over a loose wire. He could hear screaming now, sirens joining the cacophony. People were shouting, and heavy boots echoed off of the high ceilings.

 

“I.....I....” he stammered, eyes darting to either side. “I have to get out of here....” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He ignored the SQUIP shouting at him to stop, panic taking over until all he could think of was getting  _ away. _

 

He shoved past Officer Roberts, legging it to the door at the end of the catwalk. He shouldered the door open, bursting out into the hallway. He panted heavily, fear starting to tighten around his lungs. He scoffed, gritting his teeth and ducking through the door that led to the top of the house. He froze when he saw paramedics and police officers swarming the stage.

 

_ “Alright, change of plans. You need to leave the school before they notice you. NOW, Jeremy!” _

 

“M-M.....Mike.....” he gasped out, fists tightening. His knuckles were bleached white, the bruises and welts from wrestling with the spotlight standing out harshly on his pale skin. “Need.....Mike...”

 

_ “NO YOU DON’T, JEREMY! LEAVE,  _ **_NOW!”_ **

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head and starting for the stage, only to almost tumble down the stairs when his legs suddenly lost all feeling. He yelped, gripping the railing. He could hear sobbing coming from the stage, and tried desperately to move. One of the paramedics saw him and turned to their colleagues, pointing at him and saying something too quiet for him to hear.

 

“What the hell did you make me  _ do?!”  _ he spat at the SQUIP, trembling as he tried to drag himself down the stairs. The SQUIP appeared in front of him, scowling darkly.

 

“I didn’t  _ make  _ you do  _ anything,  _ Jeremy! I made  _ suggestions  _ and you  _ obeyed!”  _ he snarled, eyes flashing blue. Jeremy gulped, eyeing the approaching paramedic.

 

“N-No.....I.....” He paused, stumbling backwards and falling on his butt. “Who’s under that light?” he asked, voice trembling. The SQUIP rolled his eyes, scoffing.

 

“I told you, it’s someone who wants to  _ hurt  _ you! You don’t need to know anything more than that.” Jeremy shook his head, the form under the light flickering in and out of his view.

 

And then, he knew. He paled, his already waxen complexion turning downright sickly. He was shaking so hard the figure in front of him was starting to blur out at the edges.

 

“N-No.......Michael.....” he whispered, suddenly feeling like there was a lump in his throat the size of a baseball. He pulled himself to his feet, pushing past the SQUIP and running for the stage.  _ “MICHAEL!” _ he screamed, sprinting down the stairs. When his legs failed again, he just dragged himself along by the railing. The paramedic caught his arm as he stumbled past, jerking him to a stop. He started struggling against their grip, trying to get loose. “No, lemme go! I need to get to Michael!” he yelled, tears of frustration building up in his eyes.

 

The fire was out now, and a team of six was carefully hauling the broken spotlight off of Michael, lifting him onto a stretcher the minute his body was clear. They rushed out the side door, heading for where he assumed an ambulance was. The tears spilled over his cheeks, and he went limp in the paramedic’s grip. He barely registered the questions they were asking him, staring at the stage with wide, horrified eyes.

 

The SQUIP appeared in front of him, a dark look on his face. “If you’d just listened and  _ obeyed,  _ you wouldn’t be feeling like this! It’s like talking to a brick wall with you sometimes, Jeremy, I thought we’d been over this already! I’ve done nothing but help you, and  _ this  _ is how you repay me?!” he snarled, waving an arm at the stage, where all that was left was the smell of burning wood and the shattered skeleton of the spotlight.

 

Jeremy didn’t answer, letting the paramedic bundle him away. The SQUIP rolled his eyes, blinking out of existence again. Or, appearing to, at least.  _ “Sorry Jeremy, but you leave me no choice. You’ve been very disobedient, and I’m afraid that’s set you back too far. Until you get back on course, I’ll handle this.” _

 

He tapped into strength Jeremy hadn’t known he  _ had,  _ (it must’ve been all those pushups) struggling against the paramedic again with renewed vigor. They just held him tighter, what had been a comforting weight on his shoulders now a vice grip, pinning his flailing arms to his sides. When they got outside, there was a bed waiting. Michael was already gone. His body struggled harder, thrashing and snarling, trying to get loose. The SQUIP was more frantic now, apparently not having anticipated the strength of the paramedic. Jeremy found that odd, but then again, don’t computers get worse at working properly as time goes on? Maybe it was the same for supercomputer pills.

 

“This is the kid I saw inside, the one who kept falling on the stairs. A little help would be great!” they called to the others. Another paramedic came up and grabbed him, helping the first wrestle his body onto the bed. Leather straps were secured around his wrists, ankles, waist, and upper arms. Another band was secured over his thighs, effectively ending the SQUIP’s struggling. “Sorry kid, it’s for your own safety. We don’t want you getting hurt, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to make it a bit more clear: i (tyler) hc that whenever jeremy had a panic attack pre-squip, michael was the only one who could calm him down, and visa versa. that's what the whole "need mike" thing was about


	4. the smartphone hour (reprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the rumor mill gets going again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes ik i'm evil i'm making you wait for an update on jeremy and michael but FEAR NOT, chapter 5 (when you love someone) is in the works
> 
> the first bit (the talking, newspaper, and twitter feed) all written by tyler (theartisticintrovert). the rest written by ollie (thefreshprinceofnightmares).

_ “Did you hear? Someone burned the stage down!” _

 

_ “I heard that Jeremy Heere was arrested!” _

 

_ “Woah, really?  _ **_I_ ** _ heard Michael Mell is in the hospital now!” _

 

_ “D’you think Jeremy had anything to do with it?” _ __  
  


_ “Obviously! I mean, why else would he be arrested?!” _

 

_ “Didn’t he give Jenna Rolan some kinda new drugs?” _

 

_ “Weren’t he and Michael friends at some point?” _

 

_ “I heard from Jenny that Jeremy broke into the catwalks. D’you think he’s the one who tried to kill Michael?” _

 

\--

 

**_“LOCAL HIGH SCHOOL BURNS DOWN; ONE INJURED, SUSPECT IN CUSTODY!”_ **

 

**_‘Late yesterday afternoon, a fire broke out at Middleborough High during last-minute preparations for the after school play, A Midsummer Nightmare. According to investigations so far, the cause of the fire was a spotlight, which fell down from the catwalks._ **

 

**_One student, Michael Mell (16), was caught under the spotlight and is now in the hospital. The main suspect, Jeremy Heere (16), is also in the hospital under police surveillance. Full story on page 3a.’_ **

 

\--

 

_ @JennyLuce: oh mygod so i saw jeremy in the cats earlier and i should’ve stopped him bc he was messin w the lights _

_ @JennyLuce: i didnt know he was trying to hurt michael oh god _

 

_ @CCanigula: @JennyLuce Woah what??? Jeremy was in the catwalks? When? _

 

_ @TheySeeMeRolan: @CCanigula @JennyLuce wait howd he get the keys what _

_ @TheySeeMeRolan: @JennyLuce didnt u have reyes’ keys wtf _

 

_ @JennyLuce: @CCanigula this afternoon, i got officer roberts but jeremy was like, saying shit about tightening the bolts _ _  
_ _ @JennyLuce: @CCanigula it was super sus but like i didn’t call the actual police or anything _

_ @JennyLuce: @TheySeeMeRolan i s2g i have no clue how he got in. i still have reyes’ keys i think he picked the lock or smth _

_ @JennyLuce: @TheySeeMeRolan he’s been acting shady for a while now, you notice anything different? _

 

_ @TheySeeMeRolan: @JennyLuce nah, nothing. xcept this weird pill thingy he gave me earlier, he called it a squip i think? idk it felt awesome tho lmao _

 

_ @DillPickle: @TheySeeMeRolan Wait is Jeremy a drug dealer now????? _

 

_ @TheySeeMeRolan: @DillPickle idfk i think so maybe? he had this shoebox with a buncha pills inside it was real sus tbfh _

 

\--

 

_ @LittleRiver: #PrayingForMichael ! I hope he gets better soon D: _

 

_ @GlowyChloe: ffs i got out early what the hell happened where tf is everyone >:( _

 

_ @LittleRiver: @GlowyChloe Jeremy tried to kill Michael, the stage burned down, and opening night was cancelled! D: _

 

_ @GlowyChloe: @LittleRiver wait jeremy heere? like, loser-to-popular-overnight jeremy??? wtf didn’t think the nerd had it in him O^O; _

 

\--

 

Chloe didn't believe what she had read the first time. And who could blame her? Middleborough was rife with rumors and gossip. She'd learned to take things with a grain of salt the second she stepped into this school. It wasn't that she didn't trust her classmates, but... she didn't trust her classmates. Rumors spread. Gossip happens. Lies are told. It was just the way things were.

 

So when she first saw her fellow classmates chattering something about Michael being injured and Jeremy being a  _ drug dealer _ (she didn't fully understand that one) and the auditorium being set on fire, she scoffed and ignored it, dismissing the idea as another story blown out of proportion that there was surely an innocent context for.

 

But then it kept popping up, and she started to get annoyed. The answer she got from Brooke didn't really help matters. (It raised more questions than answers, to be honest.)

 

She checked Michael Mell's Twitter feed, both for Tweets and for replies, looking for some sarcastic comment about it or at the very least something confirming he didn't die in some freak stage accident, but @ReadyPlayer_01 has gone inexplicably silent. 

 

And that's when she arranged an impromptu visit to Brooke's place.

 

\--

 

 

"Why does all the cool shit happen whenever I'm away?" Chloe grumbled around the straw to her milkshake, sitting crosslegged in her school clothes on Brooke's bed. "Like, first there was that bomb threat when I had to leave because I got sick, and then there was the fight in the cafeteria, and now there's..."

 

"I guess cool stuff is just avoiding you," Brooke snorted, not looking away from her phone. She'd been refreshing her Twitter feed for the past twenty minutes, but now everyone had gone quiet. She supposed they were off to bed for the night or something. It was a Friday, but the day had been draining for everyone. "Or it's just a sign you get sick a lot." 

 

There was a moment of silence as Chloe seemed to ponder that, still fiddling with her straw. Then she shrugged, taking a long sip from her cup before responding again. "At least something happened to get the school to pay attention to the theatre department."

 

"Thinking happy thoughts! I'm so proud," Brooke giggled, turning her phone's screen off and sitting up to plug it into the wall. "But if it's anything like how they handle the rest of the stuff we get up to, they probably won't even mention it 'till like, next Thursday or something."

 

That at least got a laugh out of Chloe. "Yeah, true. Remember the spring play last year, where they did Heathers, and the morning announcements only mentioned it like, once aside from on opening night?"

 

"That play was such a flop." Brooke blew a raspberry, lying back down. "I mean, it would've been much less of a flop if the school had actually like, mentioned it more than once." There was a pause. "I think I made a pretty good Heather Duke, though."

 

"I didn't think you had it in you."

 

"Oh, I do! You just don't see it. I can be scary when I wanna be." Brooke giggled again, and Chloe made a skeptical noise. 

 

The room went quiet as the pair ran out of things to say and, for once, they both seemed to be speechless. Brooke glanced up from her spot lying down to see Chloe staring blankly into her almost finished milkshake and empty fry bag. Brooke was about to ask her what's on her mind, but instantly shooed away the thought. It was obvious.

 

"So, like..." Chloe finally begins, not looking up. "Is Michael gonna die?"

 

Brooke is taken a little off guard by that considering the two were never particularly close (the closest thing Chloe and Michael had to any sort of positive interaction was her asking him out as a joke the first day of sophomore year and being politely shut down, much to her astonishment and rage), but then realizes that she wasn't too close to Michael herself, either. Nobody really was, now that she thought about it.

 

Nobody except for Jeremy Heere. And Jeremy was the one that had hurt him in the first place. Brooke stared up at the ceiling. How would she feel if Chloe had done such a thing to  _ her? _ She shuddered to herself at the thought. It was unimaginable, but if it happened with Jeremy and Michael, who were attached at the hip for all she knew, what could stop it from happening to her and Chloe?

 

But to answer the other's original question... "I don't know. I mean, I don't know what having a spotlight fall on top of you  _ does. _ He has burns, and... cuts. From all the glass." She felt sick just recounting what she had heard. "I mean, if he  _ does _ live, then... I don't think he'll be the same."

 

Brooke never thought she'd ever be talking about a classmate like this. Sure, her and Michael weren't  _ close _ close, but they hung out a couple times, and being in the same suburban small town since second grade makes you bound to know a lot about people you don't even talk with.

 

Chloe was silent, and Brooke sat up to look at her, holding a pillow to her chest. Chloe finally sniffles and shrugged, standing to put her dishes away.

 

"I guess we'll wait and see."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the whole "jeremy's a drug dealer!!!!" is based off that bit in the middle of pitiful children in the official audio btw
> 
> tyler out [salutes]


	5. when you love somebody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> plot twist, now it's the squip that needs to chill

Eric Heere would be the first to admit he wasn’t a good father. After Susanna left, he wasn’t the same. Depression had nearly drowned him, making it difficult to even do something as simple as putting his  _ pants  _ on. He tried to be strong, for Jeremy, for Michael, even for himself, but it was just........hard.

 

That wasn’t a worthy excuse.

 

He knew it wasn’t, knew that the longer he wallowed, the more his son was suffering. He could see it. Jeremy was slipping away from him as the days went on, becoming more secretive, more angry......just.... _ different.  _ He’d come home smelling like weed and rum sometimes, eyes bloodshot and a dopey smile on his face. When asked, he said he was just hanging out with Michael.

 

Eric knew he should’ve questioned it. After all, wasn’t pot a gateway drug? He knew he should’ve seen the signs, but........

 

It still hurt that he had to find out just how badly his son was hurting from  _ Twitter gossip,  _ of all things.

 

To his eternal shame, it took his son lashing out and seriously injuring someone for him to actually sack up and be the dad he should’ve been.

 

\--

 

He opened the door to the hospital room slowly, a small part of his mind still focused on the uncomfortable chafing of denim after so long of just cotton. The rest of him, though, was focused on the bruised and burned form of Michael, the boy he saw as a second son. For a single, heart-stopping moment, he couldn’t see Michael breathing. Only the steady beeping of the heart monitor reassured him that, for now, Michael was still alive.

 

He sighed, sitting down in the soft chair at Michael’s bedside. “Hey, Michael....” he murmured. “I know that you probably can’t hear me, but they say that if you talk to a coma patient, it helps them remember what’s going on when they wake up. So.....here I am.” He made a pained noise, halfway between a laugh and a sob. “God, I’m so sorry, Michael. Maybe......Maybe if I had been a better dad to Jeremy, he wouldn’t have done this. Maybe if I had seen how bad things have gotten and got him help.......then maybe, this wouldn’t have happened.” He sniffled, wiping his eyes. “I really am sorry, Michael.....I can’t help but feel like this is my fault.”

 

\--

 

Jeremy woke up dizzy and disoriented, head throbbing like someone had smashed it with a sledgehammer before running him over with a truck. Maybe an overdramatic description, but at the time, he felt it accurate. He could see the SQUIP pacing in the corner, an electric blue circuit pattern flashing on his face as he ranted at the wall. Jeremy’s eyes widened, and he could feel his breathing speed up again. He must’ve made a noise or something, because the SQUIP turned around so fast that it looked like the edges of his coat glitched out.

 

_ “Jeremy!”  _ he snarled. Jeremy shrunk back into the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.  _ “Jeremy, look at me.”  _ He shook his head.  _ “Jeremy.”  _ The SQUIP’s tone was warning, like he was on his last thread of patience. Jeremy cracked his eyes open, turning his head to look at the SQUIP again. He was leaning against the wall, scowling at Jeremy. He didn’t look like an exact copy of Keanu Reeves anymore, instead looking more like the cyborg costume Jeremy had half-heartedly thrown together not even two weeks before.

 

“W-Why won’t you just go a-away? Haven’t y-you rui-ined my life enough already?” Jeremy muttered, voice hitching. The SQUIP chuckled, shaking his head condescendingly.

 

_ “Jeremy, I don’t know how many times I need to repeat myself. I’m not here to  _ **_ruin_ ** _ your life. I’m here to  _ **_improve_ ** _ it. I know it takes you a while to understand things, but at least  _ **_try_ ** _ and keep up?”  _ He scoffed, pushing off the wall to stand at Jeremy’s bedside. He tried to cringe away, only to realize he was strapped to the bed. He felt the panic creeping up again, but was quickly distracted by the SQUIP’s voice.  _ “This is all your fault, you know. If you’d just listened, if you’d just  _ **_obeyed,_ ** _ you wouldn’t be here.”  _ He chuckled again, smirking maliciously.  _ “Have you seen what people are saying about you?”  _ he asked, voice practically dripping with fake concern.  _ “They’re saying you’re a drug dealer. That you’re unstable. That you tried to burn down the school, just like how Rich burned down Jake’s house.”  _ His smirk sharpened, eyes narrowing.  _ “They’re saying you tried to kill Michael, Jeremy.”  _ Jeremy shook his head, eyes wide. He was pale and shaking again, his bottom lip starting to bruise with how hard he was biting it.  _ “They’re saying you tried to kill him  _ **_on purpose._ ** _ Isn’t that a shame?”  _ Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut again, wishing he could cover his ears.

 

“Mr. Heere?” Jeremy jolted, turning his head to look at the door. Standing in the doorway was a police officer, as well as a man in blue scrubs. Jeremy assumed he was a nurse. “Mind answering some questions?” He snorted derisively, turning to stare at the ceiling again.

 

“Not like I’m going anywhere, so ask away,” he said, frowning. The SQUIP rolled its eyes, but didn’t comment. The officer sat down in the chair by Jeremy’s bed, prompting him to look again. She pulled out a tape recorder, clicking it on and setting it by his bed.

 

“Alright Jeremy, I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” the officer asked. Jeremy nodded in agreement, face impassive. He was just  _ waiting  _ for the SQUIP to start telling him how to act again, figuring it wouldn’t be long until he said or did something deemed ‘uncool’. “Okay. First, where were you this afternoon?” 

 

_ “Evasive truth.”  _ And there it was.

 

“When do you mean? Fifth period? Seventh? After school?” he asked dully. The officer scowled, but forced her face back into a professional expression.

 

“After school,” she said. Jeremy nodded, biting his lip roughly.

 

“I was......in the catwalks,” he answered, seeing no point in trying to lie. Three people saw him there, and if he tried to lie now, it’d just make it worse. The officer nodded, shifting in her chair.

 

“Alright. What were you doing there?” she asked. He froze, paling slightly.

 

_ “Lie!”  _ He swallowed, eyes darting towards the SQUIP.

 

“I-I....I was checking the lights before the play.” The officer frowned, eyes narrowing, but didn’t comment.

 

“Were you aware that there was someone under the spotlight?” the officer asked. Jeremy shook his head. “Verbally, please.”

 

“N-No, I wasn’t.” His breath hitched, and he could feel the start of tears in his eyes again. “I....he....ack!” He jerked when a sharp shock raced up his spine.

 

_ “Need I remind you, Jeremy, that society generally views voices in one’s head as a sign of a psychiatric problem?”  _ the SQUIP asked cooly. Jeremy bit back a whimper, and avoided the officer’s eyes.

 

“Mr. Heere? Are you alright?” the officer asked. He nodded shakily, turning his head to avoid her eyes.

 

“Y-Yes, I’m fine, sorry. Just.....got pinched.....that’s all,” he said, trailing off. The officer regarded him suspiciously, but nodded slowly.

 

“Right......okay. So then, were you aware that the bolts on the spotlight had been checked not even a week before today?” Jeremy’s eyes widened, and the SQUIP cursed again.

 

“No.....I wasn’t aware of that.....” he said. She nodded, reaching forward and grabbing the recorder, turning it off. She sighed, folding her hands together and leaning forward.

 

“Mr. Heere......Jeremy, I’m going to be honest with you. You’re under suspicion for attempted murder. However, I’m certain that there’s something going on that you aren’t telling me. Is this true? You can nod or shake your head, if you don’t want to speak,” she said. Jeremy’s jaw locked, but he still managed to nod his head, but not without difficulty. “Alright. Can you tell me what it is?” He shook his head, eyes wide and pleading. Tears beaded up in his eyes again, and he could feel his muscles tensing up. “Okay. It’s alright, just calm down, okay?” she said, looking out of her depth.

 

Jeremy struggled to open his mouth, needing to ask about Michael.  _ “Please, I just want to know! I......I won’t ask if I can see him. I just need to know if he’s okay!”  _ he thought at the SQUIP, frantic and panicky, even in his own mind. The SQUIP considered it, before nodding.

 

_“You should only_ _ask about his health,”_ he warned. Jeremy nodded slightly, relaxing when his jaw unclenched.

 

“I-Is....Is Michael okay?” he whispered. The officer blinked, startled.

 

“Michael Mell?” she asked. He nodded. “He’s.....alive,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

 

“He’s getting better though....right?” he asked. She hesitated, glancing at the nurse in the corner. He shrugged, biting his lip. Jeremy’s breath hitched, but instead of crying, he just chuckled bitterly. “I should’ve guessed.......I made a fucking  _ spotlight  _ fall on him......I don’t know what I expected....” he muttered, still chuckling. Tears streamed out of his eyes as he stared at the ceiling, shaking with laughter.

 

The officer and the nurse exchanged wide-eyed glances, before the officer gathered her things and left quickly, a brooding look on her face. The last thing Jeremy heard was the door swinging shut and the SQUIP screeching like a dying computer, before his head went fuzzy and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh ho ho what's this? is jeremy actually going "oh fuck" and trying to fix things???
> 
> #SaveMrHeere2k17
> 
> actually save everybody everyone needs help
> 
> also can someone please tell me how to format summaries google isn't helping please,,,,my crops are dying,,,, ~tyler
> 
> i would take a bullet for jeremy's dad ~ollie

**Author's Note:**

> all chapter titles courtesy of tyler


End file.
